


Nightmares

by Severina



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Community: tamingthemuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He takes a shuddering breath… and realizes he's not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's tamingthemuse community, for the prompt "malleable"
> 
> * * *

The walkers burst through the tree line, snapping and snarling. Dozens upon dozens of them.

Daryl only has time to take out two of them before he knows that the camp is hopelessly overrun, sees the same realization on the faces around him. No idea how they got through the defenses, how so many managed to shamble past the guards posted on watch. Time to figure it out later, if they survive. 

They're cut off from the vehicles, so he ducks under a rotting hand, scrambles down the dirt path that leads back to the interstate. In front of him, Beth fires on the run, makes a few head shots before she has to put her own head down and sprint down the road. He doesn't have time to call out when a walker darts out from behind a tree, directly into Carl's path – only sees the boy stumble, legs tangled in the grey rotting flesh, and then they are on him, more than he can count, more than he can kill. 

Daryl runs faster, past Maggie sprawled in the dirt, eyes wide and staring as the walkers dig decaying fingers into her skin. He skids in the dirt, sends pebbles flying when he bends to scoop up Judith. The girl flings her arms around him and clings to his neck, but even now she doesn't make a sound, the need for silence trained into her for the past five years. He dodges past skeletal bodies, past corrupted flesh that should have long ago stopped moving; runs until his chest aches, until his breath comes fast, until the stitch in his side nearly has him doubled over in pain.

The walker tackles him from the side, sends him tumbling to the ground. He does his best to shield the little girl from the fall, pushes her away as soon as he sees the other walkers stumbling onto the roadway. He winces when the first set of teeth plunge into his forearm, when the second walker tears the flesh from his shoulder and starts to feed.

"Run!" he screams. "Run!"

Judith hesitates only for a second, then she is away. He watches her run, watches her tiny feet kick up the dirt as she flies across the path, watches the walkers staggering after her in pursuit and—

 

Daryl blinks awake in the darkness of the cell, his hand automatically reaching for the knife hanging on the bedpost. It's halfway from its sheath before his mind starts to clear, and he stops in mid-motion, swipes his hand across his sweat-soaked forehead instead. He takes a shuddering breath… and realizes he's not alone.

"Late for rugrats to be wanderin' round," he says.

Judith shrugs. Her hand drifts to her mouth, no doubt seeking the comfort of her thumb. Been trying to break her of the habit for the past six months. She fiddles with her long hair instead, cocks her head. "Were you havin' a bad dream too, Daryl?"

It's already fading, the dream. Something about the walkers, about the little girl. He shakes his head. "Guess I was."

"When I have a bad dream, Maggie tells me a bedtime story," Judith says solemnly. 

Daryl props himself up on his elbow, leans out of the bunk to see the window above the perch. Only about another hour 'til sunrise, and he's gotta be out with the dawn, check the snares before he goes hunting. He doesn't have time to fuss with the kid. It's not even his damn turn to take care of Judith. 

He opens his mouth to tell her that he'll take her back to her bunk, closes it again when he sees the look in her eyes. He pats his own bunk instead, pulls back the covers and waits for her to snuggle next to his side.

"Are you ready?"

Daryl nods.

"Once upon a time," Judith says, "there was a beautiful princess…"

Daryl settles back against his pillow, smoothes his fingers through the curls on the top of her head, murmurs in the right places until Judith's voice falters and she drifts back to sleep. He watches the rise and fall of her tiny chest, the curl of her fingers atop the scratchy blanket. 

When he wakes up three hours later, he can't remember his nightmare at all. He only remembers the princess.


End file.
